Drumming Verse
by DaRkZ-54
Summary: 4 stories of Castiel, Gabriel, Dean and Sam; the truth, myth, what could have happened, and what should. Title and Chapter names are lyrics from The Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine, the theme of this Verse.
1. A Drumming Noise

The brothers walked their separate ways, their Aura's shouting out various emotions and feelings towards the other, but refused to meet; the drums of their hearts banging ever louder.

The Abomination, his large Aura challenging his huge frame, crackling with anger, vain, sorrow, loss- guilt. The withered flames of his long lost self trying to respark against the tainted, blood fueled darker flames, the ones that made his blood run black and sent a shiver down your spine at the single thought of them.

And the Sword, his dusty, golden Aura flared with pride, lust, blame, loss, and hate. The lightning bolts of hate flashed and struck out at the flaming Aura heading in the opposite direction, the golden electric never showing mercy, the sparks of protection staying low and close, directed at a new Aura, one he was walking towards.

Shades of grey mist enveloped this creature, the mist darker as it moved away from the empty man, lighter as it had closer contact with the Angel. Fading wings bathed in the clouds as he contained himself, no longer having much to contain. His Aura of grey reached out to the approaching storm, calming it as the Angel laid a hand on the man's shoulder, the eyes of the storm looking straight into his. The darkest cloud tugged away from the golden bolts, away from the rest of the fog, seeking the single teardrop of hope slithering towards it from across the field where they stood.

Wild, wonderous water thrashed out slightly, aiming for the crackling electricity that had now become the grey mists main concern. Waves crashed angrily as they disappeared into the black mass of memories, leaving- abandoning- the flames of the Abomination. Streams of lightened foam wrapped and meandered his own Grace, entwining with it. Dark, deep depths of blue reached out slowly towards the dying flames, not wanting to catch the Aura's attention too harshly, too quickly- no. He wasn't always like that, he'd kept the softer, calmer oceans of his nature hidden for so long, and yet it had been discovered.

These tales will each follow one man- the grey mist will clear from the truth, the ocean will crash waves upon myth, lighting will strike the untaken path, and flames will engulf what was certain.


	2. Louder Than Sirens

Castiel walked down the back alleys of the town where Sam and Dean were, then outstretched his wings and took flight. The truth behind the state of Heaven would be kept silent to them, Civil War was as far as he would explain to them. He felt concern and distrust tugging at him, small lighting bolts hacking at the calm mist of his Aura, catching his attention- but it could wait, he had more important things to worry about right now. Meeting with Balthazar had shook him, despite feeling relieved that he was alive- he'd just lost another brother, but not in the sense of Death- Balthazar had followed the Ocean, even if he said it was his own influence that made him leave.

It had been a sad day when Gabriel had left, many blamed Lucifer for his death, many blamed Michael- Lucifer and Gabriel had been inseparable before the fighting had gotten out of hand. He missed that side of Heaven, he missed his brothers and sisters being able to live together, to love, to never fight. He missed the laughter, the light-hearted spirits spread through-out the Garrisons and their Chargers; the Cherubs and Guards. He missed Lucifer's beauty, the way he would shine as the sun rose in Eden, the Fledglings taking flight among the skies- the Morning Star and his wonderous beauty.

He walked through what used to be a Nesting Ground, feathers and ruined nests lay scattered, the dying and the dead left at the mercy of the few healers in Heaven. There had been many healers back then, but not now, now there were barely enough.

Most humans thought that Angels were merciful, peaceful, and would all have that healer side of them; that couldn't be further from the truth. Angels were warriors, they were pure; but there was a time…

"Castiel." Zathriel nodded in greeting, Castiel returning the gesture.

"How are the reconstructions coming along?" Zathriel let out a long sigh.

"Slow, we need more angels here." Castiel- if having more time as a human- would have croaked with emotion at his next thought.

"…How many?" Zathriel shifted his weight, keeping his head up.

"We lost the Fledgings, many of the mothers survived, but we couldn't save all of them." Castiel sighed.

"Thank you Zathriel, you may return to your post." They nodded once more and the other angel walked towards the Garrison he was charging.

He wished that Gabriel could have come back, he would have been able to help, known what to do. He was raised with Raphael, Castiel…well, the four Archangels were more themselves to themselves- excluding Gabriel anyway. He would always play with the Fledglings and help where he could, Raphael was always busy, training his apprentices and sometimes lecturing Gabriel on being more serious- though that often got him a lecture of his own off of Michael, since Gabriel was older than Raphael anyway.

He flew through the Seven Heavens (It was one big Heaven, just different places for different charges and Angel rankings) checking on the damage done. It really was catastrophic. In many parts, Angels would be fighting among themselves, followers of Raphael, and- what lightened Castiel's spirits even a little- was that Gabriel's followers and Garrisons he Charged over still believed there was a possibility he would return, spreading love and joy and replenishing Heaven to the greatness it once was.

The amount of Angels dead was horrifying, old comrades, families, friends; gone. Nothing would heal the wounds that this event had caused, yet people who followed Raphael wanted this to happen again, for the Apocalypse to happen how it should. Could no-one see how wrong it was? Could no-one see the damage that this had caused?

He could not tell Sam and Dean the truth behind Heaven now, nor would he particularly want to speak to Dean at the moment, he mostly went for Sam's benefits; and to help out with hunts when needed. Balthazar had been right, Castiel was too young to understand Heaven's truth; but it never stopped him trying.


End file.
